Twenty Summers From Now
by Maddy de l'Aurore
Summary: It started with an innocent question. Arthur lay on the grass, staring at the drifting clouds. Merlin breathed slow, taking in the scent of wildflower and Arthur and summer outside of Camelot. "Arthur, where do you think we'll be twenty summers from now?"
1. Chapter One

• **Twenty Summers **•

_**Written by Maddy de L'Aurore and Ardenne Morgan.**_

Chapter One:

**Secrets of the Morning**

By Maddy de L'Aurore

* * *

"Rise and shine!" Merlin announced with his typical idiotic grin.

Soft sunlight rays peeked through the curtains, much to Arthur's irritation. He was not pleased in the least.

Summer was the worst month in Camelot. Everyone walked too slow and sighed too much. The King grew more irritated each day and Arthur's temper was hotter than the midday sun. Even the castle's walls started to sweat in the dizzying heat, damp and sticky with humidity.

Merlin had had been promptly greeted by a plump apple or a vase thrown at his shoulder on more than one occasion. He should know by now when to keep his big mouth shut.

"Can't you think of anything new to say?" complained a sleepy Arthur, still in bed.

"What?"

"Every morning, it is the same thing."

"Oh, I'm sorry. How about... shake a leg?" Arthur raised his head.

"Up and at 'em? " Merlin suggested with his usual cheerful disposition.

Arthur gave him a "Really, Merlin?" stare but Merlin had a habit of missing crucial clues.

"Let's have you lazy daisy...?" Merlin had asked, blue eyes lighting up and a familiar grin on his face. When Arthur shot him a murderous look, Merlin had the sense to run, shutting the doors behind him.

There was a jousting tournament coming up in a month's time and Arthur had plans to spend the entire day training, ensuring that he would be ready to win when the time came. It was breakfast time and Arthur sat at the table, taking a lazy sip from his goblet as his father greeted Morgana. She had a troubled look upon her face, her eyes darting from place to place.

"Anything the matter?" asked Uther.

"It's Gwen."

Merlin glanced at Arthur. He was listening intently, just as Merlin had guessed.

"She didn't turn up to work this morning."

"That's not like her." Arthur's voice was just a bit too high. He sounded concerned.

Merlin had no reason to feel that pang inside his chest but it happened each time Arthur's feelings for Gwen became apparent. He tried his best to swallow his feelings and stand still, waiting for orders of food or drink or for clearing the table.

"No, it's strange,' Morgana agreed. "I hope nothing's wrong," she added, her voice overflowing with feigned worry.

The King reassured Morgana that if her maid could no longer be relied upon, she could easily be replaced. Arthur made a face at this and Merlin remembered an incident that had occurred shortly after he and Arthur had first met. Merlin had drunk from a poisoned goblet to save Arthur's life but had fallen deathly ill soon after. When Arthur had learned Merlin was dying from the poison, he had risked his life and disobeyed his father's orders solely to save Merlin, his manservant. Merlin had wondered, then, if that was all he was to Arthur, or if it was something more. But he had dared not linger on those thoughts for too long, for thoughts could grow into wishes, wishes into hope and hope was dangerous. Hope could be destroyed in a moment and destroy its bearer with it. This lesson Merlin had learned time and time again.

"I'm sure she'll turn up soon enough," said Arthur, his voice interrupting Merlin from his chain of thoughts.

"I'm sure," Morgana smiled.

It wasn't long before Arthur had cancelled his plans for the jousting tournament in favour of finding out what had happened to Guinevere.

"Go to Gwen's house and find out what's wrong."

Merlin nodded, turning towards the castle's doors.

"And Merlin," Arthur added, "Quick as you can."

"Yes, sire."

* * *

The door opened easily. It was unlocked.

"Gwen?"

There was no answer.

Merlin surveyed the room.

"Gwen?"

Objects looked out of place, Merlin noted. Perhaps signs of a struggle. He felt uneasy, a churning feeling inside his stomach. Scanning the room again, slower this time, Merlin's eyes landed on a rag thrown on the floor. He picked it up carefully, bringing it towards his nose. His face scrunched up immediately, repelled by the scent of a strong sedative potion. It had almost certainly been used to sedate Gwen. There was only one logical conclusion.

Merlin hurried to Arthur's chambers, taking the rag with him. Arthur walked up to him, eyes on the object in Merlin's hands.

"What's that?"

"Found it at Gwen's," Merlin said, holding it out.

"It's a scrap of cloth," Arthur stated without much enthusiasm.

A smile played on Merlin's lips._ "Idiot. You're missing the point."_

"I know."

"She's a seamstress. How could that _possibly_ be important?"

"Smell it," Merlin commanded, dismissive of Arthur's scepticism.

"No thanks." Arthur studied Merlin's face. _"What on Earth is he up to? Is this some sort of–" _

"Just smell it," Merlin repeated.

Arthur sighed and rolled his eyes, grabbing the rag from Merlin's hands. He held the cloth to his face and took in a long, deep breath, much to Merlin's surprise who furrowed his brows and mouthed "What are you– ?"

In a second, Arthur's eyes had closed and his body was well on its way to crashing towards the ground. A quick flash of golden eyes and Arthur's chair slid into place, ensuring the unconscious prince only fell safely into his chair.

With a sigh of relief, Merlin bent down to retrieve the cloth Arthur had dropped and then let his gaze drift towards an unconscious Arthur. His eyes were half closed, lashes fluttering as if he would suddenly awake. He groaned softly and turned his head to the side, making his collarbones and the muscles in his neck more prominent. Merlin shifted about as he glanced at the flash of smooth skin under the dark criss-cross of Arthur's shirt. It was a shade paler than that of his face or his toned but still slender arms. Heat rose up to Merlin's cheeks and he quickly turned his gaze towards the rag, busying himself with folding it in quarters as he bit his lips nervously.

"What... is that?" Arthur slurred, his eyes still closed.

Merlin made sure not glance at Arthur as he replied.

"It's a compound of Hogswort and Valerian."

"What?" Arthur held a hand to his head, trying to stabilise himself.

"I'm just guessing," Merlin said quickly, not wanting to arouse suspicions of – well, anything.

It's not like Merlin has ever _seriously _considered knocking someone out. It was more of a fleeting fancy he had come across a few times. Gazing at Arthur passed out in the woods so many times had made him wonder, every now and then, of all the possibilities.

"You could knock a man out with that!" Arthur exclaimed.

_He doesn't mean what you think he means, Merlin._

"Yesss," Merlin agreed. "Or a _woman_?"

Granted, Arthur had been knocked out a few minutes ago, but he seemed awfully slow today. At least he had finally managed to understand the situation.


	2. Chapter Two

• **Twenty Summers **•

_**Written by Maddy de L'Aurore and Ardenne Morgan.**_

Chapter Two:

**Something in the Forest**

By Ardenne Morgan

* * *

Merlin was walking up and down the castle when he bumped into a woman walking towards him.

"Gwen!" He shouted excitedly when he realised who the woman was. "I've been searching the whole town for you," Merlin smiled sweetly.

Guinevere was strangely quiet, unlike her usual bubbly self. When she claimed illness was the reason for her recent disappearance, Merlin realised something was wrong. He had visited her house and he had not found her there. Quickly placing the dropped clothes back into her basket, Gwen tried to focus but her dark eyes were glazed over, as if she was lost in thought. She had almost filled her basket when Merlin saw the large bruise spreading across her outer wrist.

"Gwen, who did that to you?"

Guinevere had never been good at lying so when she stuttered and fell silent, Merlin was sure something was wrong. His instinctive response was confirmed when Gwen burst into tears, finally admitting everything that had happened in between sobs. She trusted Merlin and knew that she could count on him in these situations. Gwen trusted Arthur too, of course, but her fear of causing him harm made her reluctant to involve him. Merlin convinced her otherwise soon enough and eventually, she found herself riding out to castle of Fyrien where Arthur suspected Cenred and his men were holding Elyan.

The threesome became four when Morgana joined the trio after a great deal of insistence, much to Merlin's annoyance.

Hours passed before any exciting event took place. Morgana had insisted they rest for a while and Gwen had become dizzy with the heat so the girls had decided to bathe. Of course, it was only decent of Arthur and Merlin to excuse themselves from the general vicinity of the river so as to protect the girls' modesty. And that was how Merlin and Arthur ended up in an unknown part of the forest.

Although the sun was still scorching down upon them, the cool summer breeze seemed to balance out the heat. The atmosphere seemed to have a calming and relaxing sort of effect on the boys, despite their awaiting quest. It was especially effective on Arthur, whose usually alert state was clouded by the soothing environment. So it was very unlike him to miss the arrow that shot past his eyes with lightning speed, missing Merlin's hair by just inches.

At once Arthur, snapped to attention. Quick as lightning, he positioned his horse in front of Merlin's while drawing out his sword with a dangerous swish. Leaping down from the horse as silently as he could, Arthur motioned towards Merlin in a crouching position to do the same. Arthur had been caught by surprise when the arrow had shot past them and he was determined to not let that happen again.

"Stay low," he mouthed at Merlin while trying to get a better look at their attacker.

"Right," whispered Merlin and started following Arthur's advancing body.

"You _idiot_," whispered Arthur in the loudest possible whisper he could manage. "I just told you to stay where you are."

"I was just covering your back," Merlin blurted out as usual, always quick to defend any actions Arthur regarded as disobedience.

Without any warning, a second arrow had been shot past them with dangerous agility, narrowly missing Arthur's neck as he skilfully ducked at the sudden sign of movement. Arthur was just about to let out an inward sigh of relief at his good luck when he heard a sudden shout right behind him. Arthur's head jerked back to where he heard Merlin's cry of pain. A low groan escaped Merlin's lips as a sharp jolt of pain seared through his right arm and Merlin collapsed onto the grass.

Arthur's eyes widened in shock and a jolt of fear shot through his body as he noticed Merlin tightly clutching onto his right arm, blood pouring out from a not so minor injury. For a moment, everything around him stopped as he watched Merlin in disbelief. The mere thought of something happening to... no. No, he must not think that way. As a prince, he was trained from birth to be fearless and trust in himself and his men, no matter what the situation. Past battles had taught him to give his knights courage and to keep their faith intact, even if they were fighting a losing battle. Eventually, he himself would begin to believe that there was always hope of winning, no matter how slight the chances seemed. In fact, he had learnt that believing in himself and his knights had brought him victory on several occasions and he refused to believe otherwise now.

"I can fix this," he told himself nervously as he tried his best to keep calm. He tried to convince himself that he had handled situations like this many times before and he could certainly do it again.

However, what Arthur didn't realise was the fact that this was not a case of aiding just any mere knight or subject of Camelot whom he was required to protect out of sheer duty, but a matter of a manservant who had somehow grown to become quite special to him in the last few years. So when all of his thoughts were jumbled together in confusion from a mix of fear and anxiety, Arthur really could not understand why he was not able to think clearly and why he was not quite in control of the situation.

Another low groan escaped Merlin's lips, this time louder, snapping Arthur back into motion.

Arthur made a quick decision. It would be best to first counter attack rather than tend to Merlin's wound. He ensured Merlin was safely hidden, not wanting to make things worse for him. Arthur then left his crouching position and ran out into the open forest, holding his sword out in front of him. He knew it was foolish of him to not take cover, especially as he was unaware of the number of attackers he was facing.

But Arthur was furious.

Furious that he hadn't been able to protect Merlin from simple forest raiders, or who ever they were. Furious that he had always indirectly reassured Merlin of his safety under Arthur's protection, and furious at his sudden inability to speedily react to the dire situation. No, he simply could not bear the thought that _he_ would be responsible for _Merlin_'s pain.

"Come out then!" he shouted with all the strength he could muster as he swiftly ran towards the direction from which the arrow came.

"Fight like a man if you are one. Prove yourself!"

He was running even faster now.

"Don't just hide there like a coward," he finally bellowed after no one responded to his challenges.

Looking around wildly, Arthur searched for the insolent culprits that he would surely take care of. There was no sign of anyone in the vicinity. No footprints on the dusty pathway, no suspicious looking shadows near the trees, nothing to indicate any being's presence.

He glanced around sharply one last time before shouting out to the trees "This isn't the end!" turning back as his voice echoed loudly in the forest. Not wanting to waste any more time in which he could be tending to Merlin, Arthur hurried back furiously to where his manservant lay wounded.

As soon as he reached the spot, Arthur quickly bent over to observe the severity of the wound.

It wasn't good news.

Merlin was bleeding. And he was bleeding fast. The wound was deeper than Arthur had imagined, and now he was getting unusually panicky.

His hands became sweaty as he lifted Merlin's sleeves gingerly to relieve the arm from any form of contact with clothing. With somewhat shaky hands, Arthur tore off strips of his shirt and wrapped it tightly around Merlin's wounded arm to stop the bleeding while checking Merlin's reaction ever so often to see if he was hurting him in any way.

Meanwhile, prior to Arthur's arrival, Merlin's intense pain was causing hallucinations. He saw things he knew could not be real but the fear they caused certainly was. Arthur's sudden touch pulled Merlin back to reality and Merlin became aware of his surroundings. The throbbing in his arm had not faded at all, even though almost half an hour had passed since the arrow had grazed his flesh.

Arthur's presence somehow had a calming effect on him, keeping him conscious and distracting him from the unbearable, searing pain in his forearm.

"Keep down," said Arthur firmly when Merlin raised his head in an effort to examine the wound. Merlin opened his mouth to reply, but Arthur cut him off. "It's just better if you don't see the wound," he explained.

Merlin's unending curiosity was burning inside him as he wondered why Arthur wasn't allowing him to take a look at his own wound. Then he noticed the beads of sweat on Arthur's forehead. Was he hurt too? No, his physical strength indicated perfect health, but there was something else about him that was different. He couldn't quite put his finger on it.

What exactly was going on? Was it Arthur's stance? Maybe his behaviour? He checked for the sword but that too was secured tightly in his scabbard. Well, that wasn't unusual. Arthur and the sword were inseparable.

And then he saw it. Or rather, he felt it. Arthur's touch, it was firm, yet too gentle. He seemed to be tying the strips of clothing with the utmost care, as if Merlin was one of those precious, fragile, stones that were sewn onto Morgana's dresses. And his face, well, his face had an expression unlike anything Merlin had ever seen on him before, or had expected or even hoped to see. It was a soft look, a gentle look that almost made him appear as if he was concerned.

"Or maybe even worried?" Merlin wondered.

Yes, his bright blue eyes had definitely widened with worry when he had seen Merlin's wound.

"All done. Now, I'm going to help you onto my horse and I know it's going to be a little difficult in your state but I'll be right here so don't fret unnecessarily," interrupted Arthur's voice just as Merlin's thoughts were beginning to focus.

"Uh... Arthur, I think it would be easier to ride my own horse if we want to reach Gwen's brother before nightfall," began Merlin.

"I'll be the judge of what does or does not have to be done," came the firm reply. "But-" started Merlin as he was about to insist they get on with their journey.

"We're not going to Gwen's brother just yet," interjected Arthur, worriedly eyeing Merlin's increasingly pallid face. "I'm just getting us out of this clearing and into the deeper parts of the woods where we can remain hidden. That way, you can rest as long as you need."


	3. Chapter Three

• **Twenty Summers **•

_**Written by Maddy de L'Aurore and Ardenne Morgan.**_

Chapter Three: A Fever Approaches

_**By Maddy de L'Aurore**_

* * *

Fortunately, Merlin had gathered enough strength in his rest to whisper a quick healing spell. The pain grew dull within seconds, becoming nothing more than a vague ache in his arm. Still, Arthur had insisted that Merlin rest a little longer. His lips, curled downwards into the slightest hint of a frown and his eyes, stealing glances at Merlin whenever he thought the boy was unaware, informed Merlin that he was making him rest out of genuine concern and not his usual pig-headed stubbornness.

Merlin's own lips curled up into a tiny smile as he peered at Arthur through his dark lashes. Arthur was crouched, his left hand clenched tightly into a fist and his right hand at his hips, in easy reach of his sword. His brows were furrowed and his lips had formed his signature Prince-Arthur-the-Prat pout. He was immensely tensed and ready to pounce at any second but Merlin thought he looked so utterly ridiculous, frozen in the same position since Merlin had opened his eyes. Merlin's dark dark hair danced about as his shoulders heaved, just a little, in a fit of laughter he could no longer hold back. Arthur's concern was rather endearing. He almost looked like he was a pleasant character and not half the supercilious clot-pole that Merlin knew he was.

Arthur's head turned towards Merlin immediately. His eyes narrowed and his fist clenched even tighter.

"What," he asked in a dangerous hiss "Is so funny, Merlin?"

Merlin bit his lip in regret before Arthur could even finish his sentence. Arthur had done nothing but care for him and Merlin had been stupid enough to laugh in his face. He knew, as much as the prince denied it, that Arthur was sensitive to anything that threatened his image of being a fearless warrior and the honourable Prince of Camelot.

"I'm sorry. Must be the injury. I mean, I did... hit my head pretty hard," Merlin mumbled, not really knowing what to say.

Arthur raised his eyebrows and stared at Merlin for a moment, a long moment, before he finally spoke.

"The arrow pierced your _arm_, Merlin."

Merlin's face suddenly grew paler than it was before as he realised his mistake. Well, it wasn't his fault that the healing spell had worked so damn well that he had forgotten where, exactly, the pain had been just moments ago.

"Well, yes. Yes, I know. It's just that... I hit my head when I collapsed. It's very... It must have knocked me out and I..." Merlin trailed off mid sentence as noticed Arthur's sky-blue eyes staring intently into his.

"Arthur, what is it?"

"What, indeed," he sighed with a good dose of sarcasm.

He made a show of frowning and sighing about how frustrating it was riding out with three girls, Merlin included, before he made his way over to the boy, brushing aside his dark hair so that he could study Merlin's allegedly injured head.

His touch was surprisingly soft and gentle against Merlin's forehead, although his fingers were calloused by years of training with a myriad of lethal weapons. Merlin had to force himself to slow down his breathing. He was afraid Arthur would hear the ridiculous sound of his heart pounding madly inside his chest as Arthur's body drew closer to his own and as his long, slender fingers slid through the tufts of his hair and all over his forehead and neck, searching for bumps or cuts or blood.

Arthur was not playing fair. Merlin swallowed audibly and cursed himself profoundly when Arthur commented on Merlin's reddening face. He took it as an indication of fever, which he believed was caused by the head injury that he had not found any other physical sign of yet.

"Well, it looks like you're fine, other than a possible mild fever." He checked Merlin's temperature with the back of his hand as he said this. He had seen Gaius do the same to him many times when he was younger and had sneaked off to play in the the lake mid-winter and brought back with him a fever that earned him a scolding from his worried father.

Merlin's skin was noticeably warm. Arthur was baffled by the boy's symptoms. He claimed to be well, and he seemed to be in good health, but his warm skin, rosy cheeks and occasional bursts of nonsensical speech was definitely a cause for concern.

"Arthur, I am _fine_ but if we don't head back to Gwen and Morgana and ride out to Cenred's castle, I guarantee Elyan won't be. A man's life is at stake."

Arthur shifted about and snapped at his glove. He glanced at Merlin and then into the trees with a little shake of his head, as if he had just remembered that Guinevere and Morgana were waiting for them, probably worried sick, and that a man - Gwen's brother no less – was locked up somewhere by Cenred and his men.

"All right. We're heading back but we're not riding out to rescue Elyan til dawn."

When Merlin looked unconvinced, he quickly added "We'll have a better chance when every one of us is at his best."

The sun was still out when they rode back. A nervous but relieved Gwen and a rather calm, smiling Morgana greeted them. The group was decidedly quiet about the whole affair and the foursome rode in heavy silence.

Arthur lead the way through the forest and Guinevere followed closely behind. Merlin glanced at Gwen and then at Arthur and felt that that churning in his stomach again. It was not the horse riding that caused his queasy feelings.

Morgana rode just behind Merlin. She was close enough to notice his shoulders slump as he gazed at the sight in front him. Her eyes narrowed as she wondered about Merlin. He was a mystery to her and as much as she despised the boy, Merlin intrigued her.

"I used to be afraid of these woods," Arthur stated, breaking the silence.

"I find that hard to believe," Gwen chirped with a laugh.

"My father would bring me here when I was a boy. It seemed every falling leaf was a bandit, every huff of wind was a ghost."

Arthur smiled as he spoke with Gwen and it shot through Merlin's chest faster than the arrow that had pierced his skin.

They settled on a resting site in the heart of the forest. It was not much of a clearing but would suffice for a night's rest. Arthur watched Gwen struggling with her horse. Morgana was out of sight, gathering firewood for the group. Merlin, he noticed, had not left his side since they had begun the journey.

"Go get some firewood, would you, Merlin?"

"I thought Morgana was doing that," came the reply.

"Go and see if she's all right."

"Why wouldn't she be?"

There was no getting rid of the idiot. He could be so painfully clueless sometimes.

"Merlin," Arthur started, motioning towards Gwen with a tilt of his head.

"Oh," Merlin mouthed with realisation and something else. It wasn't disappointment. It couldn't be. There was nothing for Merlin to be disappointed about, Arthur thought as Merlin disappeared into the trees, running after Morgana. So why did the idiot look so glum?


	4. Chapter Four

**• ****Twenty Summers ** **•**

_**Written by Maddy de L'Aurore and Ardenne Morgan**_

__Chapter One:

**How Do I Love Thee?**

By Maddy de L'Aurore

* * *

Arthur walked towards Guinevere slowly. He watched her dark curls bounce around her shoulders as she spun around to catch his eye. Her eyes were always warm and friendly. He liked that. He liked _her._ Arthur knew Gwen liked him too but that was not what worried him. Sometimes, he would look into her eyes and catch a glimpse of all that Gwen saw in him. The fondness, the hope and worst of all, the love. He knew the girl loved him greatly.

Arthur had never intended for this to happen. He had never planned for _this_. Arthur really did like Gwen. In fact, he loved her. He was just unsure whether the love he felt for her was the same sort of love she felt for him. The Greek would call his love for Guinevere "Philia", the sort of love that two good friends shared. But when Arthur looked into Gwen's eyes, he saw something else entirely and it made his cheeks turn the deepest shade of crimson and his stomach churn with guilt. It was the way he looked at Merlin sometimes and the idiot would always blush and mumble nonsense and busy himself with something. Arthur tried to keep himself busy lighting the fire but his shaky fingers were against him. Gwen seemed to be busying herself too. Arthur knew how she worried about her brother but there was no need for that. He would bring Elyan safely back to Gwen, of that he was sure.

"...He never settled down. He never thinks about the future, just follows his heart wherever it leads him."

Arthur smiled at that. At least some people were brave enough to live lives that were truly their own. Arthur loved Camelot and his father but sometimes, it was too large a part of him. So much so that it seemed to swallow him.

"Doesn't sound so bad," Arthur said, still smiling, as he turned to face Gwen.

The smile disappeared though, when the conversation paused at a delicate moment. Arthur wasn't sure but it seemed that Gwen's last remark was aimed at him.

"It's what you do when you love someone," she had said. Arthur panicked inside, knowing very well what was happening, or rather, about to happen. He focused on attempting to light the fire again but that turned out to be a mistake.

"Here, let me," she offered, leaning in towards him. Arthur's hands weren't just shaky now, they were glistening with sweat. He apologised to Guinevere a thousand times in his head and to the gods a thousand times more. He had never meant for Guinevere to fall in love with him.

Her hands worked quickly, lighting the fire in an instant and Arthur forgot about his troubles for a moment and simply watched half in awe at her skill and half in annoyance that he lacked it. He made a face at her, to which she replied "I'm a blacksmith's daughter, remember?" He nodded with a small frown and admitted defeat in the area of lighting fires. He felt like such a _girl_. Arthur made a mental note to have Merlin teach him how to light fires and then remembered that pained look on the boy's face when he had turned him away. The problem was he still looking into Gwen's eyes as he trailed off into thought and Gwen was now looking back, a dreamy look of hope in her eyes.

"Forgive me, Guinevere," was the last thought he had before she leaned in and he found himself doing the same.

Thankfully, Merlin and Morgana returned with the firewood just before their lips met.

Arthur's relief faded, though, when he saw Merlin's mouth wide in shock.

By the time the group had finished planning the next morning's rescue, night had fallen. Arthur lay awake on his bedroll, right hand loosely clasping his sword. He had shut his eyes for what seemed like hours but sleep never came easily to him. He could hear the soft whisper of Merlin's breath beside him and shivered at the thoughts that came to mind. It was madness. It would never be.

Then there were footsteps. Arthur's grip on his sword tightened. He peered through his lashes, careful not to reveal that he was awake. The footsteps stopped abruptly and he heard the ruffle of fabric as Morgana settled herself into her bedroll. Arthur relaxed when he realised it was only Morgana and tried again to sleep when he caught a glimpse of Merlin's dark hair dancing about. Merlin was turning to face Morgana. He was still awake.

Arthur feigned sleep as best as he could, not wanting to catch Merlin's eye. He couldn't face him now. Not now, alone, in the middle of the night, with Gwen and Morgana fast asleep. If he lost control of his feelings once, and he knew with Merlin he would, he could never lock them up again and he loved Camelot too much to let it go.

Without warning, Arthur felt the soft, warm touch of skin against his forehead. Arthur's heart almost leapt straight out of his chest as he felt Merlin's fingers brushing the damp hair off his face, fingers gliding across warm skin damp with sweat. Arthur hoped that Merlin thought it was the heat of the fire and nothing more. He held his breath to stop the unholy sounds that would escape his lips otherwise and stayed that way until he heard Merlin mumble a "'Night, Arthur" half to himself and half to what he believed was an Arthur in slumber. Only then did Arthur slowly release his breath, swallow hard, and silently curse himself for his most unthinkable thoughts until he fell asleep.

Morgana and Merlin were both saddling their horses when Merlin decided to remind Morgana of her little meeting last night.

"Trouble sleeping?" Merlin asked without looking up, feeling her eyes on him at once.

"If you have a problem, Merlin, why don't you talk to Arthur about it?"

Morgana was not afraid in the least, Merlin noted. If her calm tone didn't give it away, the curl of her lips into that irritating smirk certainly did. She was up to trouble, no doubt, but there was something else. Morgana was wrapped snugly in a thick blanket of confidence and that was never a good sign. Merlin's gut tangled itself up into knots and he could not reply.

"No? Well keep your mouth shut then!"

Morgana studied Merlin carefully, a sneer plastered to her face.

"You've got so many secrets, Merlin. Don't you ever get tired of hiding it all?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Merlin stated but his head was swimming with fear.

"Merlin, I can see it in your eyes."

"There's nothing to see."

"Come now, Merlin. You can fool them but you can't fool me. I know your precious little secret," she teased with glee.

Merlin looked into Morgana's eyes and found them ablaze with victory. She was positive that she was right. Merlin felt his hands starting to tremble. This was not good news. Far from it.

"Worried, Merlin?" Morgana smiled at the wide eyed Merlin. "Don't be."

She walked over to Merlin, lowering her voice to a barely audible whisper.

"I know you have feelings for Arthur."

Merlin choked on his breath. Magic was one thing but _this _he had never expected to hear.

"That's ridiculous! Morgana, you've... you have clearly lost your mind."

"Watch it. That's no way to speak to a lady," Morgana spat out. "Listen carefully, Merlin. I'm giving you a chance to live your dreams. One day with Arthur. You can do as please with him but come sunrise, all his memories of the day will be lost. Think about it. One day of bliss is more than you deserve."

Merlin checked his surroundings. Arthur and Gwen were out of earshot.

"Why would you do that?"

Morgana's smirk disappeared. Her eyes darkened and her lips curled down. "It's not out of choice. I was told to make peace with you so here I am. Don't expect any pleasantries."

"Told? By whom? Why are you-"

"That is not your concern!" She hissed. "So, do you accept? Or would you prefer more chaos between us, chaos that could hurt your precious prince?"

Merlin was confused and terrified and relieved and anxious all at once. Perhaps peace with Morgana would be best. And on top of that, surely spending one day with Arthur could do no harm? Merlin gulped, hoping Morgana didn't see it.

"All right," Merlin whispered, still unsure whether he was making the right decision.

"Wise choice," Morgana smirked.

She took out a ring and slid it onto the middle finger of Merlin's left hand.

"Don't take this off until you want his memory erased."

A shaky Merlin nodded and was about to head off when Morgana stopped him.

"And Merlin, if the ring is worn too long..." She paused to look straight into Merlin's eyes. "...then it's possible the memories may not be completely forgotten."

Merlin tensed, knowing that it was very possible Arthur, Gwen and her brother were in danger. He had tried to prevent Morgana from accompanying them but nothing had seemed to work. Even after falling off her horse, she was determined to keep riding. And now, she had managed to talk him into this. Merlin's brows furrowed in worry. At this rate, they would all end up in Cenred's dungeons, that too if they were lucky and Merlin had a feeling their luck was running out.

When the sound of air whooshed past his ear, his belief was confirmed. The flying arrows and screaming thugs riding towards them were definitely not omens of good fortune.

"Merlin!"

Arthur pushed the boy to the ground just as an arrow shot towards his back. Merlin was safe but the arrow pierced Arthur's armour and it stayed jabbed in Arthur's back as he crumpled to the ground, his vision a blur and voices echoing around him.

Merlin wasted no time dragging the prince's limp body away to safety. He frantically checked for Guinevere but found neither she nor Morgana. They were in a clearing, there were hardly any trees, and yet Gwen and Morgana were nowhere to be seen. Merlin decided to check on them later; Arthur's bleeding wound was more pressing right now.

His hands trembled a little as they unlaced Arthur's shirt. He slid the shirt over Arthur's head slowly, gently letting the loose white fabric glide over Arthur's chest and neck until he finally managed to pull it over his damp, blond locks, matted with sweat and blood. Merlin stole a quick glance at Arthur's face and cursed himself immediately. He felt pinpricks of fire all over, heating up his body and an aching desire throbbed inside him. Merlin bit his lips and swallowed hard, slowly becoming aware of the tingling shudders running down his spine each time he drew in a breath, sharp and ragged, as he glanced at Arthur's slightly parted rosy lips and the honey-coloured shadows on his body.

Merlin had always believed that Arthur's physique was more beautiful than any god's or mortal man's. He had seen many a statue of fierce hunters with chiselled, masculine form or graceful angels with lean, delicate beauty but Arthur's form far surpassed these. His body displayed strength, his defined muscles carved by years of hard training and battle. But with his long limbs, golden hair and eyes blue like a summer sky, he had an almost celestial look about him.

A faint groan escaped Arthur's lips. Merlin startled at the sudden noise and forced himself to draw in a slow, deep breath in an effort to calm his racing heart. With Arthur's shirt in hand, he stumbled his way to the nearby lake, only tripping twice on the way. Merlin plunged the shirt into the water and let the cool water run over his warm skin for a moment. He pulled the soaked shirt out and wrung it a few times until it was just damp enough to wipe Arthur's wound clean.

Merlin's fingers grew increasingly clumsy as he tried to clean the sticky, thickened blood on the arrow wound in Arthur's back. Gingerly, Merlin dabbed at the wound site with the damp shirt, not wanting to hurt the already injured Arthur. The prince flinched as soon as Merlin's fingers touched his skin and Merlin shied back instantly, smacking his hand into his chin in the process.

"Did you just slap yourself?" Arthur inquired, sounding exhausted but faintly amused.

"Yes- No. No, I mean I did... but it wasn't on purpose is what I meant."

Arthur observed Merlin's wide eyes and trembling shoulders. He lowered his gaze until his eyes landed on the bundle of white fabric in Merlin's hand. Without thinking, Arthur ran one hand over his torso and realised he felt just bare skin.

"Merlin, is that my shirt?"

Arthur asked casually but the way he stared Merlin up and down made the boy nervous and he swore Arthur could hear the thudding of his heart inside his chest.

"Yes- I thought-" Merlin paused to swallow hard and catch his breath. "I thought that I should clean the wound to prevent any chances of infection and Gauis always says its best to–"

"What am I supposed to wear?" Arthur interrupted, folding his arms over his chest.

Merlin was mildly surprised that Arthur sounded calm and not furious as he usually did in these situations.

"You could just wait for it to dry... I mean, it _is _hot today and the sun is shining so it shouldn't take too long..." Merlin trailed off as Arthur stood up and took a step towards him.

"Arthur, you have to rest. You had an arrow in your back just a while ago. You can't just– "

Merlin stiffened as Arthur tugged his shirt over his head.

"_You _can wear mine when it's dry."

Arthur laced up the shirt himself and added a smug "And since it is so hot today and the sun is shining, it shouldn't take too long."

Merlin gave Arthur a look somewhere in between horrified and stunned but Arthur simply headed towards his horse, preparing to ride towards the castle as they had planned.

"Arthur?"

"Mm."

"Aren't you worried about Gwen and Morgana?"

"Why would I be? Those 'goons' were actually some of my newly knighted men. I had them sent to keep the girls out of harm's way for a while."

Merlin's eyebrows shot up and he merely gaped at Arthur in shock.

"What?" Arthur snapped.

"Arthur!"

"Merlin!" He yelled in frustration, unsure of why he, exactly, he felt so annoyed at Merlin now.

Arthur sighed and stuck his sword into the earth.

"Look, I can't place them in any danger. Chances are we're walking into a trap. We might be followed as we speak. I cannot let any harm come to them. I'd never forgive myself if I did. But we need to rescue Elyan." He paused to catch his breath. " You don't have to come with me..."

"Arthur–"

"But I hope you will," Arthur said quietly, closing his eyes to clear his head.

"It's not like you could do it without me anyway," Merlin grinned.

"Right," Arthur retorted with a roll of his eyes.


	5. Chapter Five

•**Twenty Summers•**

_**Written by Maddy de L'Aurore and Ardenne Morgan**_

Chapter Five:

**Wild Flowers and Sun**

By Maddy de L'Aurore

They were deep in the heart of the woods when the summer air had cooled a little. A still amber sky glowed dimly behind clouds as the boys walked on, knee deep in meadow. The castle of Fyrien was still nowhere in sight.

"How much longer?"

"Merlin-"

"Shut up, I know."

"Arthur?" Merlin inquired with a curious tilt of his head, eyeing a familiar looking gnarled oak. He was sure they had passed that same oak twice already.

Arthur made no attempt to answer Merlin's mindless chatter, as he thought of it, and trudged through the meadow, parting his way through the field of wild flowers and brushing ants off his ankles once in a while. Merlin dawdled behind, much to Arthur's annoyance.

"We haven't got all day, Merlin! If you walked any slower, you'd be going backwards," Arthur sighed.

The boy stumbled his way towards Arthur, mumbling some sharp-tongued remark under his breath. Arthur decided to let it pass if it meant that they would reach the castle by dawn tomorrow.

"Arthur..."

"What?"

"What would you do if I told you to stand very still?"

"What?"

Merlin reach a hand towards the prince's neck with a look of horror on his face.

"Merlin?" Arthur asked cautiously, feeling a faint rush of adrenaline and a flutter in his stomach.

"Don't move," he whispered, eyes frozen on Arthur the nape of Arthur's neck.

"What are you-"

"Shh," Merlin whispered, placing a finger to his lips.

A bright light shone in Arthur's eyes, his vision filling with an orange glow. He was squinting his eyes, trying to keep the bright light from blinding him when he realised the glow came from Merlin's finger. He was wearing a ring. It was quite beautiful, silver with amber tear drops and a smaller amber ball in the middle. Arthur felt his heart flutter and sink to stomach. Was Merlin betrothed? How else could he afford such an exquisite ring? A sudden pinch in the delicate skin of his neck forced a loud howl of pain from Arthur.

"What on Earth-" Arthur started in a furious growl when Merlin flashed him an apologetic smile.

"A tic."

Merlin showed Arthur the now dead insect briefly before he flicked it away.

"They can paralyse the body and cause serious diseases. I read about them in one of Gaius' books. The feed on blood and they... Arthur, are you okay? You look a little pale. You sort of look like you're going to–"

Arthur turned away from Merlin and wretched, gasping long after had finished ridding himself of his last meal.

"Water."

Merlin handed it to him without a word and watched him rinse his mouth, turning his back towards Merlin in embarrassment.

"Better?"

Arthur grunted a yes, still refusing to look at Merlin.

"I think we should take a break. I'm feeling a bit tired, aren't you?"

"No."

"Arthur, I really think you need to–"

"Are you betrothed?"

"Wh- what?" Merlin asked with a laugh. What had given Arthur that idea?

"Just answer the question."

Merlin swallowed and shuddered as walked over to Arthur and stood beside him, staring at the flowers at their feet.

"No."

Arthur sighed in relief and turned to face Merlin.

"Where did you get that ring?"

Merlin drew in a deep breath, steadying his nerves. He eyed Arthur slowly, placed his hands on his shoulders and then pushed him down. Arthur was astonished. He was dazed as he felt himself hit the ground softly, cushioned by the long blades of grass and the velvety stems of wild flowers. Merlin stared intently into Arthur's sky-blue eyes as he pinned Arthur's right arm down gently and brushed Arthur's cheek with his free hand. Arthur's skin was warm and his cheeks were rosy. Merlin slid his fingers through Arthur's golden strands, feeling the soft, silky texture before he let his palms glide down slowly on the side of Arthur's neck, stopping eventually to cup Arthur's astonished face in both hands, admiring his wide eyes alight with ardour and astonishment before landing a chaste kiss on Arthur's glistening, rosy lips.

They were both gasping as they parted, each keeping his gaze locked into the other's eyes, breaking away only to glance at the pink of lips or shadow of collarbone or the peach of flushed, damp skin. Arthur was the first to break out of their trance, snapping his head away from Merlin's lips.

He narrowed his eyes, furrowed his brows and opened his mouth to speak. He wanted to yell at him, tell him it was wrong, tell him he felt sick and repulsed.

"I've..."

Merlin gulped, glancing nervously at the wild flowers and grass they sat in.

Arthur leaned in, reasoning he needed to get closer in order to yell at him properly. Yes, he would yell at him and threaten to have him locked up in the stocks.

Arthur felt tender, warm skin against his lips. This wasn't the plan. Arthur panicked and was about to pull away when he saw pale arms fidgeting, unsure of what to do. He hated seeing Merlin fidget. It absolutely irritated him. Arthur grabbed Merlin's arms, snaked them around his waist and kissed Merlin till his body begged for air.

"Arthur," Merlin whispered, voice breaking mid syllable.

"Mm?"

"I think..."

"Yes?"

"I think I..."

"What?" Arthur asked softly, trying to coax out some admittance of love or at least infatuation before he made too big a fool of himself.

"I think I'm going to be sick!" Merlin managed just before he confirmed the statement.

Arthur pulled his legs away just in time. He watched with a horrified expression on his face for the first few seconds and then resorted to holding Merlin still or rubbing his back as Merlin retched, looking deathly pale.

Taking in the scenery as he waited for Merlin, Arthur slowly realised that he had no idea where they were. But it was a lovely place, the air warm and sweet, and Arthur considered staying there, in the middle of nowhere, with no one but Merlin around.

"Ar...thur," Merlin whispered weakly.

Arthur turned back to face him, his hand still absentmindedly stroking Merlin's head when he saw the puddle of bright red.


End file.
